Dave Nevison: The Early Years of Being a Professional Gambler  I’ve been reading Dave Nevison’s book: A Bloody Good Winner: Life as a Professional Gambler.

I know what you are saying: ‘You must be a slow reader, it was published by Highdown in June 2008.’ For those of a sarcastic nature, I’ve read the book a few times. Every so often I like to recap and assess my progress as a gambler with the thoughts of Mr. Nevison. Things have moved on a little some 15-years later but the foundations to gambling don’t change too much from a philosophical standing.

Well, that’s what I say.

It’s interesting to read about the early days of Nevison’s gambling life as a pro punter back in 1993. Going from working in the City as a foreign currency trader – where deals were in the millions – to getting a bet on at a blustery racecourse were literally poles apart. It was a learning curve on so many fronts and by all accounts a difficult pill to swallow. He often he wished he could go back to those leisurely years where money really wasn’t a problem.

Not only did he struggle in those early years but he found his approach was all wrong. Being a traditional gambler, he would find a couple of decent bets on the card and bet on the nose which worked well if they came in but if they lost he found himself chasing his losses because he didn’t much fancy heading back on the train to Kent with that empty feeling in his pockets.

Things weren’t going to plan until he bumped into another familiar face Eddie ‘The Shoe’ Fremantle who was much more successful in his pro gambling with a very different stance on how to find value bets.

Fremantle made his own tissue on each horse in each race and looked to see how they compared to those of the bookmakers. If he had a horse priced 2/1 and the bookies had it at 5/1 he’d bet on the potential value. He may even bet on a number of horses in the same race. If his tissue odds detailed value he would win and the bookmakers would lose.

Upon hearing this approach, Nevison had a eureka moment and couldn’t believe he hadn’t worked it out for himself. From that day he formed his own tissue prices and by all accounts never looked back. He had found the key to being a successful professional gambler. Not only did it allow him to make the most of a race card (being able to bet in every race) but it also helped spread the money around with some bookmakers winning while perhaps one lost. This was a crucial part of his success in getting bets on rather than betting on one or two horses on the card. Bookmakers would be wary of taking selective bets if they were frequently digging into their readies.

A Bloody Good Winner is a great book for not only its humour and big bets but also from a learning point of view. Nevison could have started his book at any point of his professional gambling journey which may have given the impression he never backed a loser. But he is an honest bloke who didn’t flinch from detailing that his early years didn’t go to plan, that he made mistakes and listened to someone who had a better approach.

He says to this day that he appreciates and respects Eddie Fremantle while his book was rather scathing at other pro gamblers at the time who he felt didn’t put their money where their mouth is or simply bet such small money it could barley cover the costs of living.

Gambling is very much a learning experience. You don’t just wake up one day and find you are a successful professional gambler. It’s a journey of trial and error. It is a life of hard knock. But, like Nevison, it was a profession he felt he had to take because it was his ambition.

He did it well.

Betting Away From The Office  I’m a creature of habit.

A praying mantis. I have a triangle shaped head and two bugling eyes. That’s me, scouring Betfair looking for a chance to make a layer suffer, an attack which takes milliseconds. I cut them down, steal their money and leave them to perish.

Compare this to me wandering around Great Yarmouth racecourse licking a 99 on a hot summer’s day.

Being away from the office can prove troublesome for a professional gambler.

I always find it difficult to enjoy a day at the races because there is too much happening akin to a sensory overload. I have the latest technology at hand to bet and win but it’s not the same. In fact, I’ve often had a day at Great Yarmouth with my family and friends then struggled to be the efficient purposeful gambler I am at home. You wouldn’t think it would be a problem. However, I need room to extend my raptorial legs, grasping my victim with my forelegs before eating them alive with my powerful jaws.

Sorry, for a second I slipped back into the praying mantis role. The delight of the ambush.

It’s lovely to get to the course especially on a beautiful summer’s day. For many, Great Yarmouth is a tacky location but for the gambler it is a slightly less daunting experience than Hunter S. Thompson’s Fear And Loathing in Las Vegas. Joking aside, it has a lot to offer the debauched gambler. Thinking about it, I’m not sure if debauched covers gambling (rather sex, alcohol or drugs). Anyway, the gambling is enough to attract punters of every shape, form and fetish. I’ve had many a happy holiday at this Norfolk coastline.

I’ve even met Lowestoft professional gambler Jerry Banks at Jellicoe Road. A quick drink in the Troll Cart or The Feathers on Market Gate and taxi to the course.

When outside the home setting, I try to be even more professional in preparation for a day out. I’ll spend even longer the evening before assessing the races. Doing all the groundwork I can to keep up to speed. I have my iPhone ready and charged. Hand written notes detailing specific race times and my insider guides to keep me on the right path. I even try to consume little to no alcohol. However, the best-laid plans of mice and men often go awry. I wonder if Robert Burns turned into a praying mantis when he wrote that quote (at home in his office).

I often feel I’m tempting fate when I go to the races. As these arrangements are made in advance of the race declarations I am almost holding my breath when I look at the meetings. I say races because I specialise in two-year-old horse racing so my interests will be across a few cards. In fact, the last ten times I’ve been to Great Yarmouth I haven’t bet on course. My ideal is to go to the races and it’s one of those rare days when there isn’t a two-year-old race across the cards.

I don’t think that’s happened either so I’m always distracted keeping an eye on the betting and feeling if there is a bet it will turn ugly. Don’t bet and I’m tempting fate with a possible winner going awry. A distinct feeling of pessimism because the preparation simply isn’t the same as being at home in a quiet room, headphones on and ultimate focus.

What do you do?

I remember a terrible event years ago on a horse making its debut at Ayr. It coincided with a day at Great Yarmouth races. I was in two minds whether to go or not and it turned out to be a bad decision. We decided to stay the night as it was an evening fixture. My brother, Tony, hadn’t bothered to book a room and everywhere was full. We had to ask places with no vacancy signs in the window hoping to get lucky. After walking endlessly, we found somewhere which reminded me of an old peoples home. It was on the front. A small room. The toilet didn’t work. It really was a crap hole in every sense.

But back to the bet.

I had a 50/1 shot I fancied to go well. It was a debutante trained by Rae Guest for owner Ian Matthews. The horse was called Guillia. I placed a bet to win £800 and looked to bet more. With the decision to go to Great Yarmouth I had the brainwave to cancel the bet (laid it off to a small win or no loss) which turned out to be the worst idea I have ever had. I didn’t have Betfair on my phone so the only option left was to bet on course. For whatever reason I didn’t do this either. I must have been distracted by the day. I had a bad feeling about the whole situation from travelling three hours to get to the coast, looking for a hotel room for an hour or so and I just wasn’t feeling it at all. At Yarmouth racecourse my brother and I watched the Ayr race (why the hell I didn’t have a few quid on at 50/1 I will never know) only to see Guillia win well.

Desperation.

It was truly one of those moment when I just wanted to be at home. I knew if I had been there with my laptop and Betfair I’d have won a couple of grand.

I said to Tony: ‘Let’s go back to the hotel.’

On arriving the lady on reception, being polite, asked how we got on at the races and had we bet on any winners!

She wasn’t to know how the day had panned out but the look on my face must have said a thousand words.

You can understand why betting away from the office comes hard. In fact, I have missed a good few winners trying to enjoy a day at the races. I’m sure somewhere along the line I’m making things more difficult than they need be.

I guess that’s what happens when you have an exacting nature.

Sometimes you just need to say a little prayer and hold on tightly making sure those layers can see your bulging eyes.

Betting Scared: What’s The Answer?  For most horse racing punters, there isn’t much to think about.

I really don’t like using blanket statements as they don’t give me a warm, comforting feel. And if you know your horse racing or gambling at a high level I know that statement will irritate the life out of you.

If you are that said person: intellectual and brave when it comes to gambling, if not life, I wholeheartedly apologise.

For those who have a limited idea about gambling, I come with gifts.

Knowledge.

When you are considering a race and see there is an odds-on shot at the head of the betting, what do you think?

It may be one of many answers:

  • I’ll bet on that because I’m a favourite’s man

  • I will leave that race alone as I don’t fancy taking on the favourite

  • I would rather bet each-way as it’s a safer option

  • I never bet against an odds-on shot

As with most things in life, the answer may vary for all manner of reasons based on your approach, understanding, character traits and clearly on the race and horses.

However, if you are always betting scared against an odds-on favourite then my thoughts may help you appreciate the situation.

My brother and I have both considered this problem. So what’s the answer? I can only detail my philosophy from my niche of two-year-old horse racing but it does have some logic.

These are my words: You should always take on the odds-on favourite!

Clive Brittain, retired horse trainer, used to say: ‘Never be scared of one horse.’

He was right.

You may feel it’s a bad idea. But, in truth, it is logical to oppose the jolly. The reason being that most favourites are poor value. I say this from the point of view that if you bet on every favourite you would lose money. You may well be saying: ‘Well, that’s the case for every horse at every price.’

That’s true.

But not if your selection is based on good judgement and skill.

You need to have a reason to bet against the favourite because you should have a good reason for betting on any horse.

The trouble with never betting against the favourite is that you will, by its very nature, make the race null and void. This doesn’t seem a problem when the favourite wins because you will be saying: ‘I saved a few quid there.’

But what happens when the favourite disappoints, as they often do, and the horse you had your eye on wins at big odds?

You are left feeling irritated. You should feel that emotion too because you made a mistake. It’s motivation to learn. You have to take on the favourites because long term you will find more winners at bigger odds.

Sure, you may bet a few losers, when the favourite hoses up. But when you consider the issue of bet or no bet [because you are running scared of the favourite] there is no reason not to bet.

So many times I have seen the supposed ‘certainty’ lose and that third or fourth favourite returns a double-figure odds.

‘Oh my Lord, that 50/1 shot I had my eye on just won!’

‘I didn’t bet because I was scared of the odds-on favourite.’

If you don’t think this approach will work for you then why not do some paper trailing to see the maths. Don’t get me wrong, you won’t be doing yourself any favours if your selections aren’t based of sound judgement. However, if you fancy a horse at 33/1 and you don’t bet because that 1/2f looks unstoppable, you will live to regret it.

It has happened to me too many times.

To be a successful gambler it’s about finding answers to questions. That’s why after a day’s racing take a moment to review the results and see what happened and understand why it happened. It’s not about forgetting the losers and simply moving on to the next race.

Always bet responsibly and discipline is key to that endeavour.

Take on those short-priced favourites because it’s a better option than leaving those races alone.

Dave Nevison: ‘I Cursed My Own Luck’  Reading one of my favourite gambling books: A Bloody Good Winner: Life as a Professional Gambler.

I’m getting to the closing chapters and it’s a book worthy of your time.

Nevison started his professional gambling journey back in 1993. It was a story of the good, bad and ugly. A brutally honest read about a punter putting his heart and soul into following his ambition of making his betting pay.

In those early days he had much to learn. Eventually, with the help of Eddie ‘The Shoe’ Fremantle, things clicked into place.

In 2000, he met Mark Smith, both worked for Spreadex setup by Peter Harris, who is no stranger to horse racing, also a respected thoroughbred horse trainer in his time, and to this day has horses in training with Jane Chapple-Hyam.

This betting partnership worked well as Nevison specialised within horse racing while Smith was an expert in other sports including golf, football and darts. He placed many of the bets and kept accounts.

As Nevison said: ‘Two heads are better than one.’

By all accounts, they were making a killing and life was good. In fact, the profits they detailed were astounding (especially compared with many pro punters of the time). In 2003, they made £260,000 and the following year £325,000. This was much to do with a big win on the Tote Jackpot when they struck lucky winning £268,643 at Haydock on 5th August in 2004. Mrs Moh sealed their victory when going in at odds of 12-1. There was just one and a half winning tickets and one was theirs.

Nevison said over the years he had won the Tote Jackpot or Scoop6 more than a dozen times.

However, thing were about to change dramatically. In 2005 the partnership had a dire year which saw a meagre profit of just £4,000. In fact, Nevison said in the last four months of 2005 he lost £250,000.

In an interesting story, Mike Atherton visited his flat doing a documentary about gambling and watched Nevison win £4,000 when backing an outsider at Southwell called Ice And Fire. Being brutally honest he said: ‘What Mike Atherton didn’t realise when we were doing high fives was that if it had lost, my Betfair account would have been empty.’

‘Atherton probably thought he was watching a genius at work!’

Nevison put his change of luck down to a change of routine. For years his daily routine was betting on course and that took discipline. However, he decided to make his life a little easier working from home and taking advantage of Betfair betting exchange which saved a lot travelling and expense.

It didn’t work at all.

He became lazy, losing discipline often glued to the TV watching Jerry Springer rather than reading the form. Bets went astray and multiple near misses on Tote Jackpots and Scoop6 made Nevison question everything.

‘That year saw a lot of near misses. We hit the crossbar so many times it was in splinters.’

Fittingly he said: ‘I have always looked down my nose at punters who complain that they are unlucky, but by the end of 2005 I was beginning to change my mind on that front. I cursed my own luck.’

Thankfully, it wasn’t the end of the story.

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